


In your arms

by Deshikori



Category: Borgias - Ambiguous Fandom, The Borgias (Showtime TV)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Enemy Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Sad, goodbye kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21791995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deshikori/pseuds/Deshikori
Summary: The one where it all leads to an end
Relationships: Micheletto Corella/Pascal
Kudos: 3





	In your arms

**Author's Note:**

> hello, it has been a long time since I posted any ficlets. I have a special sobfest for this one.   
> I hardly remembered it existed in my stash of ficlets so I finally was able to find the time and edit my poor English into bearly readable fiction. 
> 
> this one is really bittersweet for I tried to imagine at how they would cope with each other when the anger and their feelings would calm down before Micheletto does the deed (we all know how it ends;-; )
> 
> as you may know by now; I am a little rusty in English and I will be thrilled if you would give me some feedback on my writing in the comments below.
> 
> Now I won't drag this any longer and let this show on the road.
> 
> let us start this sobfest asap

_‘‘In your arms''_

A simple request for such a heavy burden that crushed Micheletto completely. The words rang in his ear, piercing like a blade through his chest. An unimaginable pain that set a scorching fire within, his soul no more at peace as if ever was so. He wished it wouldn't be like this for the love he had held was equal to the hurt and hate it held his heart. Those pleading, sparkling eyes watch his every move and waited for his judgment. The relief he found in those dark lively orbs as he allowed such wish to be fulfilled, only hurt him more, yet he was not able to cry for his boy. He never did. Never knew how. The boy never spoke of crying for the love, only hate that can be salvaged by it. Micheletto understood it well; he knew this has to be done.

He nodded quietly, granting the boy a few moments to calm down, letting his mind be clouded with the turmoil of emotions, his hand bleeding as the wall met its superhuman force. He hissed at the added physical hurt did not help at all for all he could feel was a thousand pins prickling his entire body, his heart taking the most damage. He sighed as there was nothing that can be done. He growled at his sweet boy, his stupid naïve boy as the youth jumped closer in visible concern and pity for Micheletto. He glared at Pascal, anger pouring out in the silence, overwhelming the airt around them, speaking volumes.

Pascal gulped hard, not knowing what to do, he knew his fate will turn out like this form the moment he agreed to be doing this. He never expected his heart to be stolen by such a man and yet it happened so sweetly. He would laugh at such cruelty that fate had set upon him and oh poor dear Micheletto. it was even harder for his beloved. Pascal choked down his tears, tending to Micheletto’s bloody arm that left an imprint on the wall, anger obviously visible as the wall damped at the contact. His gentle hands soothed the pained flesh, checking if any bones are broken, luckily no damage at all and his lips released a soft sigh in relief. He dared not to kiss those bruised knuckles, yet now it was too late for sensible actions. He took a chance, letting his plush lips touch the rough hand that embraced him so many times during those long nights of their lovemaking. He let a single tear run down his cheek, his wet eyes watching upon that face, ruthless and hardened by the anger. Only those eyes were proof that the boy had a place in his heart, even if it caused agonizing wrath.

His lips broke the silence of calling his beloved’s name, silently, a whisper that only the next to him would be able to hear and recognize a desperate plea of his lover. Pascal’s voice squeaked at the sudden hand reaching for his throat, pinning him down on his back on the cold and hard wooden floor. The damaged hand still in a gentle grip set itself free, holding the boy’s figure down on the hip. The boy leaned into the touch, a small voice whimpering at the notable strength Micheletto gripped him with, pressing hard against his neck, preventing him to breathe if he wanted to. One squeeze on that slender and fragile neck and his boy would be gone, a lifeless figure beneath him. Pascal went silent; knowing that calling his beloved would neither help nor solve anything, only wrapping this mess into a chaotic cloud. He sheepishly whined at the rough handling, his hands released it won grip around Micheletto’s hand. His eyes focused on those wild orbs, gazing upon his features. He could see the pain he had caused and he was hopeless, knowing that he couldn’t change that anymore. Yet the adoration for the man was still there, instead, his hands reach up to Micheletto’s pained face, fingers caressing those red curls. Pascal silently hummed at the smooth feeling beneath his fingertips, remembering everything before his time will come. He gulped his sorrow down as his mind realized this is the last chance to feel the warmth of those chipped on his soft ones. His heart found a renewed courage for his actions and hope glinted across his eyes as Micheletto let every move happen. In Pascal’s surprise, a soft hum was heard as the maddening silence was breaking at the rustling sound of their bodies, heavy breathing, even at the slightest hitch of the boy’s gentle whispers of apologies.

Another salty and hot tear ran down his soft cheeks, wetting the skin beneath but until it could reach its destination to falling off on the wooden floor a slight touch brushed through it as Pascal’s felt the familiar softness of their lips together. He cried into the kiss, trying to memorize this numbing feeling and soft touch on his cheek. Pascal’s heart could beat once more, reconciling with the death that will follow for now it has its peace, its place in Micheletto’s heart. He moaned at the touch that moved from his strangled neck to his chest, feeling his hard nipples under his clothing, touching that sweet body of his one last time. Micheletto’s let the kiss happen, for the boy was worth it and he will be damned if he will let the boy into death with the loss of his touch. He claimed those soft and wet lips that ever so earnestly accepted his, letting his tongue lick its way in, making the boy squirm and melt underneath him as his hand caressed boys cheeks lovingly, affectionately as ever.

‘’In my arms, yes?’’ he asked one more time, his eyes now wet from the tears that wouldn’t fall from its captive eyes. At that moment Pascal understood. He smiled softly, sadness clouded by the soothing pain of comfort dying in his beloved’s arms, gentle strong and reassuring arms. He sighed contently, his digits digging into those soft curls as landing a lingering peck on those lips once again.

‘’yes, in your arms, _my love, my dear Micheletto’_ ’

**Author's Note:**

> Aaah I cry from the bottom of my heart. But I wanted to be this moment in the show cuz Micheletto has clearly let the boy into his heart. and my poor soft heart couldn't handle the missing stuff. (although this scene could hardly be appropriate for the show lmao)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. until next time!


End file.
